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Server time (UTC): 2020-01-22, 15:40 WE ARE RECRUITING
Mike Magglio
Character information
  1. Mental
    Stable, but panics in stressful situations.
  2. Morale
    Follows his own moral compass, but is typically on one side or the other.
  3. Date of birth
    1995-09-15 (24 years old)
  4. Place of birth
    Brooklyn, New York
  5. Nationality
    American
  6. Ethnicity
    White, Italian.
  7. Languages
    English
  8. Relationship
    N/A
  9. Family
    Mom Debra Magglio, Dad Joey Maggilo,
  10. Religion
    Catholic.

Description

  1. Height
    182 cm
  2. Weight
    97 kg
  3. Build
    Masculinity, Muscle
  4. Hair
    Black, greaser
  5. Eyes
    Brown
  6. Features
    Rough skin, callused hands, followed by a stern jawline that could cut a cookie cake. hair so greased you could fry bacon in it.
  7. Occupation
    Army
  8. Affiliation
    None
  9. Role
    None

Background

Being a soldier runs in my blood. Throughout generations the Magglio name fought for what was right. My grandfather during WWII, my father during the gulf war, and now me; Michael Magglio. My father always pushed for me to join the Army, said it was "our good name to uphold." and I was all for it. He taught me to shoot, to hunt, all from a young age. By the time I could do long division I could shoot a target over 150 yards. "A natural born Sharpshooter," he'd always say. Time passed and we got the news. Ma was devastated, but he, he stayed strong as he always had; fearless. They said no matter when we would have caught it there was nothing we could do, to just count our days and to make every moment count...Three months later he passed. Mesothelioma. Ma took it the hardest, started to hit the bottle a little more often, could barely stand to look at me. Said I looked too much like him. I get it, probably why she didn't put up too much a fight when I enlisted. I followed the Magglio name and soon enough was deployed.

My first station was in some area I never even heard of, even when I decided to pay attention in history. Chernarus. A slavic country that from the sound of it could of used our help. Good ol' USA bringing peace to countries that need it. They had just finished a Civil war and now were having some kind of outbreak, we weren't told much about our assignment. I was stationed in a town called Chernogorsk. A coastal city, one a lot more bleak than the ones back home. And when we had arrived...thats when we saw what we were up against. They were zombies. Fucking night of the living dead bullshit zombies! I couldn't believe my own damn eyes until we were ordered to open fire on any shambling persons seen running toward us. Days past, the help from NATO barely kept them at bay. By the morning on the 19th, we were overrun completely. Most fled. Some died. Me? I ran. I couldn't smudge my family's name by retreating but I knew I couldn't stand a chance by myself. I got out of the city and far enough a way that I was safe to relax. catch my breath. And that night, you could see the fires burning in the Midnight sky. Cherno was on fire. And thats when I knew we were on our own out here.

That was then, time has passed and I've lived how I can. Surviving on what I can scavenge, farm, or if I'm lucky hunt. I've done some things I'm not so proud of, and helped out those that deserve it. But in the end, were all just animals. Doing what we need to do to keep ourselves on top. Survival of the fittest. And out here, I'm just trying to survive.


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